A Wanderer in Kowloon, Hong Kong

A teeming million flows in a flawed rhythm through a busy street in Kowloon. Days prior to Christmas bring in more and more people from Mainland China and other South-East Asian countries. The colourful spirit of the season adds to the pleasant experience of shopping that Hong Kong is famous for. Temperatures are highly volatile on a day-to-day basis and demand different styles of clothing and protection.

Shopping malls and restaurants are the ones where you need to exercise your patience to a good level. There are times when moving with the millions may prove to be tedious and your legs might crave to take shelter inside that fast-food outlet which teases you, ‘I’m Loving It’. Western food outlets are sometimes handy when bamboozled by menus in Mandarin. Then you enter, hoping to take a bite of the oft-tasted snack for the time being, but find that there’s hardly a seat that you can occupy. The malls are sought after for shopping branded items which display the luring festival discount tags. Then again, some stores admit only twenty to twenty-five at a time to dispel unpleasant crowding. Amazingly, there are fans ready in a beeline outside the shops for their turn to nose the branded smell.

A stroll on the streets near Mong Kok in Kowloon takes you to some interesting sights like performances in the middle of the road. My linguistic challenges are brushed aside by Cathy and Ling, a former student and a former colleague.

“Let’s stand here so we can have a good view”, Cathy from Hong Kong makes me comfortable before the start of a Qigong show.

“And take care of your heartbeats”, Ling premonitions me with a chuckle.

A stoic Qigong master, probably trained somewhere in Mainland China, gets ready for his ‘enduring task’ as he explains to the onlookers in Mandarin. Donning fluffy and loose-fitting, bright yellow trousers and white sports-shoes, the master looks mostly traditional. He wears at least six rosary-bead bracelets on his left hand. The spectators obediently form a symmetrical circle, listening to his instructions.

Ling indicated, “He may be from Shaolin. They are known for highly enduring martial arts like Kung Fu.”

“I’m curious”, hoping I would not get to see those torturous actions. Ling’s words may have meanings.

The bald-headed performer inspects the whole circle, coming closer to the spectators and greets almost every one of them with joined palms and bowed head. He retreats to the centre and whispers some words to his assistant. Then like a lightning, he takes out a very long and slim iron rod from a big basket and brandishes it in the air. He announces something to the spectators and soon begins to hold one end of the rod tightly to his neck while his assistant holds the other. He starts to twist the rod around his neck while writhing in pain. His mien develops a contorted structure. His eyelids press his eyes in a way that you feel that he is in a sense of excruciating rapture. The assistant continues to hold the other end and the performer’s changing physiognomy signals challenge to win a fight. The struggle continues for a few minutes. Finally he wraps the rod around his neck, leaving reddish brown marks on his neck and nape. He bows down and greets the onlookers again, suggesting the end. A few go forward and drop coins into a tray while the rest disperse. The performer gifts the donators with a lucky charm in the form of a bracelet made of rosary-beads.

“They don’t actually feel the pain. They are trained that way. It’s their endurance power”, Ling enlightens me a bit on Qigong while anticipating my query.

I poke fun at Cathy who had turned away during the show. “It’s your turn, Cathy”. She lolls her tongue shyly.

A few feet away, there’s a chorus rehearsing Christmas songs for the December 25 programme. Pretty ladies and tall gentlemen sing spiritedly and watch the director’s baton movements. Many around them are delighted to take out their phones and video the pre-performance. Cathy takes out her Blackberry, but the master is probably not pleased with a tune and he cuts it short. They resume after a few minutes and go on to achieve perfection. Just on the other side of the chorus are some attention-seeking teenage girls and boys holding placards which read “Free hugs and kisses”. What better warmth in the cold!

About the Author:  Pramod Kanakath: I am a part-time travel writer and a photographer. I’m an Indian national based in Indonesia. Please visit my website and my facebook page.

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